


Desire

by kansaskissedlips



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Season/Series 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 08:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18567337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kansaskissedlips/pseuds/kansaskissedlips
Summary: Well, when the kid asks so nicely, Dean really can't say no - - can he?





	Desire

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” -  Federico García Lorca,  _Blood Wedding and Yerma_

_-_

Jack stands with the back of his knees to the bed, looking up at Dean, breathless with wonder. They just did _that_ \- they  _kissed_. It’s something he’s thought about for a long time now; ever since he figured out that the constant gnawing he feels in the pit of his stomach when he looks at Dean is  _lust_.

Dean’s rubbing his hand over his mouth, seemingly warring with himself, startled green eyes locked with Jack’s own blue ones. “Do you know what you just did?” he finally asks, his voice ragged.

Jack nods, the tips of his ears pink. “I’m s-sorry,” he finally stammers out, and he has the horrible thought that Dean’s going to hit him - or worse. “You were just so close, and I...”

He’d stood on his tip-toes to do it, grabbing Dean by the shoulder to pull him down. Planted his lips square on Dean’s. In every book he’s read, every movie he’s seen in his short life - sexual desire leads to the protagonist's downfall. Not that he’s the protagonist, or anything; and hell, maybe he’s not even consuming the right kind of media. 

“Dammit, Jack.” Dean’s voice is a scratchy whisper. “I was just starting to open up to you, and you go and do  _that_. You’re - what the hell were you thinking? You’re a child!” 

“No,” Jack says firmly, his knees shaking. “No, I’m not a child. I know what I feel. I know what I want.”

“How on earth could you possibly know that?”

“Because of the way I feel when I look at you!” He dares to take a step closer. “Please -”

Dean holds up his hand. “You’ve been on this earth for three months. And I’m...” He lets out an incredulous laugh. “I’m practically your guardian. Do you know how wildly inappropriate this is?”

Jack stops, shame curling deep in the pit of his stomach, slowly coursing through him. “I just -”

It’s like Dean realizes that he’s wounded him, and his expression softens. “We can’t.”

Jack swallows hard, his mouth cotton. “Why?”

“Because society says so.”

“Since when you give a shit what society thinks?”

Dean’s expression is startled now. “Watch your mouth! God, aside from anything, I’m nearly twenty years older than you.”

“So?” Jack responds flatly. 

Dean suddenly takes a step forward, grabbing Jack by his arm, yanking him forward. He’s breathing heavily, running his eyes up and down Jack’s body. “Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Jack finally hesitates, and his voice comes out small as Dean’s grip on his wrist sends tingles throughout his whole body. “Yes,” he whispers, his voice shaky.

Dean swallows hard, slamming his eyes closed. “I’ve thought about it, you know.” It’s like he’s admitting a dirty, guilty secret. “And I’ve tried to control it.” He touches Jack’s face, then, calloused fingers on his smooth cheek. “Because it’s  _wrong_.”

Jack shudders, practically melting into the floor; every touch from another human being fills him with joy - but this is different. Because Dean’s touch fills him with both joy and  _pleasure_. “Dean, please...”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You aren’t. I want this. I - I consent to it, Dean.” He’s been doing a lot of heavy reading about sex and consent lately - and he can see, now, why Dean’s so tangled up about it. But he really does give his full consent; he wouldn’t say yes to something like this if he didn’t understand.

Dean groans, and he’s taking Jack’s face between his hands, bending down to kiss him. It isn’t a juvenile kiss, either, like that stunt Jack had tried to pull a few moments ago; it’s full, and deep, and wild, and leaves Jack positively breathless.

“Dean,” he whimpers into his mouth, feeling his stubble scrape his chin. His insides  _swoop,_ knees going weak.

Dean pulls back, panting. “You’re a virgin,” he suddenly says, and it’s like he’s internally arguing with himself again. “I - God. Your first time shouldn’t be with me.”

“The concept of virginity is stupid and overrated.” See - he’s been doing  _a lot_ of reading.

That seems to solidify Dean’s final decision, because he’s groaning, and pushing Jack towards the bed.

-

They want each other so much that the only things that really come off are Jack’s jeans and underwear; he’s lying on the bed, his borrowed Led Zeppelin t-shirt pushed all the way up to expose his nipples - and Dean’s still fully dressed. Like, if he exposes himself in anyway, that’ll make it too real.

But Jack can’t think too much about that now because he’s - his stomach does that little swoop thing again - being eaten out. He’s got one leg wrapped around Dean’s head while his hole - wet with saliva - is licked and sucked at.

He whimpers, his back arching off the bed. God, he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed because Dean’s stubble scratching against his (relatively) smooth skin - hey, he has body hair, but it’s very fine and blonde...even the curls at the base of his groin - is driving him  _wild_.

“You’re good,” Dean whispers, scraping his teeth along the inside of Jack’s thigh. “So good for me.” He lifts his head, spitting on Jack’s cock - red, and dripping wet already - so he can stroke it. 

Jack squeezes his eyes shut, a mess. “Dean, I think I’m -” There’s a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach; he’s had orgasms before (not very many, mind you, and not any like this), but this feels like he’s going to completely come out of his skin.

“It’s okay,” Dean assures, his lips slick with saliva, face so pink that his freckles are standing out completely. A bead of sweat drips down his forehead. “I want you to.” He squeezes Jack’s cock, and makes his strokes firmer; even flicks his tongue across the tip of it, gathering some of the wetness there.

Jack’s finished with that move - he cries out, loudly (thank God - the bunker is relatively sound proof) - and starts to shake apart beneath Dean, that skilled mouth back at his hole, licking at it as it contracts repeatedly. 

He twists on the bed, spilling all over Dean’s fingers and his own exposed belly. He shakes hard, the leg up on Dean’s shoulder tensing, and then going completely lax. “Dean, Dean, Dean...”

Dean appears awestruck, stroking him through the last shocks of his orgasm. “Jack - fuck. Good boy. You’re a good boy for me.”

Pleasure spikes in Jack’s bloodstream - God, that’s all he wants to hear, day in and day out. It takes a few moments for him to settle, and when he does, Dean’s coming up to kiss him, squeezing Jack’s hip.

“Look at you,” he whispers, and his hands are fumbling with his own jeans. He manages to get those - and his boxers - part-way down. “Can I do something? Do you trust me?”

There goes the  _swoop_  again, and Jack’s nodding, his eyes wide as they drop to get a peek at Dean’s dick. It’s -

“You’re huge,” he blurts out, the color high on his cheeks.

Dean manages a somewhat cocky smile. “Well, if you pay me compliments like this, we may have to do this again, huh?”

_Yes, yes, yes_ , is all Jack can think, but he doesn’t really have much time to think at all because Dean’s rubbing his dick against his stomach, through Jack’s already-spilled come.

He moans, shaky. It’s soft and slick, and feels so goddamn good. “Dean...” he’s sweating, his own cock springing to life again. He grips the sheets, and - it’s filthy, but he likes this feeling - Dean using him for the sole purpose of getting off.

Dean kisses him, and it’s slower now as he continues to slide against him. “You’re so sweet,” he whispers, pressing his tongue into his mouth. “But not sappy; not saccharine. Just the right kind of sweet.”

The praise makes Jack dizzy with lust, and he finds himself tentatively moving his body up, mimicking Dean’s thrusts against his skin. He arches on the bed, gripping the pillow that his head’s resting on.

Dean grabs his other hand, and entangles their fingers together. “Are you scared?” he whispers.

Jack shakes his head. “It feels good.” His stomach muscles twitch. “Please - please mess me up, Dean.” God, he doesn’t even know where he picked that up, but there it is.

Dean’s eyes widen, and his thrusts are nearly uncontrollable now; he spurts across Jack’s skin, their come mixing together. He’s shaking, holding himself up, it seems, so he doesn’t crush Jack’s much smaller body. He twitches through his orgasm, grunting as he rides it out. He kisses Jack hard, muffling his own cries.

Jack’s cock twitches again, and he’s coming all over Dean’s dick, spasming wildly on the bed, every muscle in his body screaming with pleasure. “A-Ah - u-uh!” Their movements cause some of the come on Jack’s stomach to slide down slowly, dripping onto his hole. It feels wildly filthy, and yet - - he relishes it.

When Dean comes back to himself, he manages to untangle them - but he doesn’t leave. Just pulls Jack into his arms, completely breathless, stroking his arm.

Jack had been scared he might leave, to be honest.

It’s quiet for a few moments before he looks up, swallowing hard. “D-Dean?”

There’s a pause, and then...

“Yeah, kid?”

“I’m not a kid. Whatever we just did - that’s the opposite of being a kid.” Jack bites his lip. 

Dean props himself up on his elbow to look at him, stroking his fingers over Jack’s hips, which are...a little bruised. Lots of grabbing. He frowns, gentling his touch even more. “You’re right. This is the pinnacle of adult behaviour.”

“You don’t feel guilty, do you?” Jack’s voice is worried.

“I do. A little bit.” Dean touches his thumb to Jack’s bottom lip. “I had no right to -”

“No one has a right. But I gave you permission.” He pauses. “I liked it.”

“Look, I don’t know what this thing is right now, Jack, but...I’m not...going to run away from it just yet.”

“Yet?”

“I have a history of pushing back against people who get too close to me. But...we can’t - God, I don’t know. I just don’t know what this is yet. Is that okay? I promise I’ll be transparent with you.”

Jack nods. That’s honestly all he can ask for right now. “What about - u-uh, Sam?” If there’s anyone he doesn’t want to ever disappoint, it’s Sam.

“Oh, Sam will full-on murder me, no matter what you or I say.” He pauses. “But...if this thing progresses? We have to tell him. I’ve done the sneaking around thing before; it doesn’t work.”

“O-Okay,” Jack stutters out. “That’s fair enough.”

“How do you feel? Are you okay? You’re a little bruised in some places.” Dean’s changing the subject. Okay, then.

“I’m okay. I, um - I have a question, though.”

“Of course. Shoot.”

“Am I...still a virgin? You didn’t penetrate me, so...”

Dean smiles, his grin wide as he pulls Jack closer, kissing his forehead. “Hey. ‘The concept of virginity is stupid and overrated.’”

Jack returns the smile; for now, his desire’s been quenched, but he knows it won’t be long until it rises again. For now, though, he’s kind of sleepy, so he settles against Dean.

“Hey, hey. Don’t got to sleep on me. We have to clean up. Come’s not a pleasant thing to have dry on you.”

Jack doesn’t hear him - he’s sleeping before Dean even finishes the sentence.


End file.
